Ensorcelled
by LiberateTheMind
Summary: The strange flame in the little boy's eyes flickers. "My name… is Sasuke." She just stares back in return with a blank expression but eventually knows he's different. "I'm Sakura." And that's how the two of them met, inside a dark room with glinting black- silver eyes and bubble gum pink hair. Everything will burn. AU. Dark.
1. Beginning

**Ensorcelled **

She is made of fleeting smoke and flickering light.

Her hair is bright like cherry blossom petals, her eyes like molten emeralds. She has seen seven winters but never its summers. She did not feel their warmth after all.

They say she is a pixie child; small and lithe arms and legs, short slender body splattered with vibrant colors.

There is an older lady with the same eyes as hers, (_green… green…green…)_ but they are frozen and dim. She calls the lady 'mother' but _her_ almost intangible presence never gave the little child an opportunity to utter the word more times than the number of fingers in her small hands. To the little girl with dreams of fairy dusts and marble castles, the woman is an apparition… ephemeral and drifting.

Sakura plays with other children her age. There is a boy with a head full of golden straws and eyes colored like the fair skies above where birds _fly..fly…fly_ freely with their beautiful wings. He has an exasperating persistence and a boisterous laugh. He just seems to be too…. bright and warm like the sun but secretly, she is jealous of him. But he _cares_. Unlike the lady who simply _doesn't_.

The girl always cries, a lot.

Hot tears often flood her cheeks like the blood running beneath her skin but she couldn't stop, couldn't really understand the reason for the tears.

_Why?_

And so, the little child dreams and dreams… of a world with a pink haired child who laughs and a green eyed lady who smiles, hand in hand. She builds them out of dusts and smoke like a delicate house of cards ready to crumble with a single wisp of air.

Mother did neither spare her a glance nor give her a smile.

She wonders if the old lady even knows her face.

The least she could do now is to sew her self a doll with a stitched smile… a smile of skewed lips and mismatched threads. She will hold it close to her until it wastes and fades away, pretty much how everything in her world desiccates with its color.

…

She never found out the reason.

The old lady died a year ago but she still never found out _why?_

Her mother is maybe with God or whoever she is with but the look of disgust still burns on her skin. It is not hideous or physically visible but the pain burns deeper than her skin and bones. It is a brand that she will forever carry, a special gift from her mother. She called her a _monster_.

Sakura is a good child, she knows she is. She is silent and stolid… has never done anything that will draw her mother's attention. She turned herself to a statue… an inanimate mannequin of phony smiles and laughs because that's what_ she_ wants. But why? Why couldn't _she_ still love her…?

Sakura loves her mother, love _her_ with all her little heart and all of the little knowledge she knows of love and affection even though she hasn't been shown a pint in return.

_So… why?_

On a dark and rainy day, she threw the last white flower on her mother's grave, a sharp contrast to the black pile of soil and weeping skies above her. She bided her farewell.

The rain fell harder.

By then, Sakura knew that her mother wouldn't get anywhere near the gates of heaven. She wasn't the best person in the world after all.

The little girl thought that they would just have to see each other in hell the next time they meet.

Oh, how love really rests side by side with hate.

…

The girl long since dreamed of polished castles and fairytales. They have crumbled far too long.

She is twelve years old and her hair is still pink. Of course.

There are two things she hates the most in the world. First is the scorching heat of the sun and the second is the _orphanage_.

After her mother died, she was taken in by the good old lady and she has stayed since. There are many children of her age but their unpolished manners and boisterous personalities annoy her. Sakura wonders if that was the reason their parents left them. Sakura only knows silence and obedience.

_But still, why did your mother left you?_

Her beautiful eyes narrow and her grip tighten. She breaks the pencil in her hand.

"Sakura-chan, are you alright?"

"Ahh… yes . I'm sorry." She quickly plasters a bright smile, drawn back by the startled inquiry of the girl beside her. She resumed writing on the half- filled paper on the table. They are lucky they are given education, not like the ones in real school but at least there's something. But Sakura is way past them. She read a lot back then.

The girl beside her is one of people who told her that she reminds them of a doll; small and fragile. Everyone around her thinks that a hard grip will make her break and crumble.

She hates it.

…

Today, there's a new child in the orphanage.

It's rare for a new child to come. Usually, the children in the orphanage are victims of repeated abuse, some are abandoned by their parents but the orphanage can't really support many.

Sakura lingers in the shadows from a room upstairs as she watches the other children play outside. She passively looks at their smiling faces, the cheerful sound of laughter passing through her ears. The bright light from the sun surrounds them like air… a cloud enveloping them with happiness, shielding and protecting them from all sorts of awful things from their nightmares. But for Sakura, it is a barrier formed between her and the rest of the world.

How could they stand it…? playing ignorantly and happily. Ignorance is bliss.

She pities all of them.

It's funny how the people believe her façade, the cheery and friendly Sakura.

She has nothing against them but she just can't stand them either.

"Hey."

She jolts on her place.

Her eyes slightly widen in surprise but they immediately return to their lazy droop. She slowly spins on her heels and looks for the source of the voice. She wonders who it might be.

Sakura is surprised to see someone standing beside the door, a small figure leaning on its frame. She can't recognize who it is because of the poor lighting in the cramped room but she knows that it is definitely a boy and he's not one of the other children.

No one dares to go up to this place.

She always hides in this room when she doesn't want to be bothered by anyone and be forced to act sweet and happy.

Then… he must be the new one.

No one is foolish enough to venture up here. It is an old abandoned room and most of the children are afraid of it… terrified of the ghosts that may lurk in the darkness.

"Oh… hello, who are you?" she feigns ignorance and flashes a small smile. It's a bother that someone discovered her hiding place.

She receives no answer. Instead, the boy took silent steps out of the shadows and stands several feet away from her.

He snorts. "Hn. You don't have to know. It's not your business"

Her eyes narrow. No one talks to her like that.

"What are you doing here then?" She needs to keep her patience.

"Why? Is this place yours?" he sarcastically retorts.

He has a smart mouth.

Sakura observes him carefully; he is probably in her own age or a little older. She estimates him with a cool glance and she immediately knows that he is not an arrogant-in-a-pace-of-rebellion-kid like the other children who are placed there for the first time.

He has an almost sickly pale skin and dark hair tinted with blue in the light. Though his slightly rounded jaws betray his young age, his face is defined with delicate aristocratic features. His form is slouched but not hunched; it's more out of confidence than inferiority.

He seems someone who would stick out of the crowd but what catches Sakura's attention the most are his eyes. They neither sparkle like those of the princes' she has read in her fairytale books nor do they dance with twinkling lights. Those are dumb descriptions of what lovesick girls claim to see.

His are deep onyx and they seem to silently burn with liquid silver fire… calm and detached. They are tinged with hidden knowledge that belongs to him alone. It feels uncomfortable to see such intelligent eyes in a mere child much more when they are trained on you. She doesn't find it attractive or compelling.

A shiver runs down her spine.

Fear.

That's when she immediately senses it… but cannot fathom why.

"You're different…" she trails, unsure what more to say.

He just stares at her in return… with his haunting and chilling eyes. He momentarily tilts his head to the side and a smirk slowly breaks on his lips.

The strange flame on his eyes flickers. "My name… is Sasuke."

She just stares back with a blank expression.

_Everything will burn._

"I'm Sakura."

And that's how the two of them met.

Inside a dark room with glinting black- silver eyes and bubble gum pink hair.

…

She is somehow intrigued but fear is a foreign feeling for her.

For the first time, there is a child like her who doesn't stupidly spend time to play outside under the scorching heat of the sun. They never talked again after their encounter in the dark room.

Even with her skepticism, she silently watches him eat separately from other children as she pretends to be one of them.

She never saw him speak with anyone even though most of the girls are willing to flaunt themselves around him. He's very attractive. Of course, they'll all be drawn to him. Sometimes, it is amusing to watch him fend them off. She wants to laugh out loud. Once, he even caught her amusedly watching and he narrowed his eyes at her, refusing to be mocked.

Sakura thinks that maybe, he's just one of those anti- social children but she knows that that's not it.

He's really different and unknowingly, she's being slowly drawn too.

..


	2. Metamorphosis

**Metamorphosis.**

Eight weeks. Fifty- six days.

In a span of short time, something has changed.

Her hair still dangles down the middle of her back; her height barely reaches five feet and her eyes reflect the same emerald hue.

As mundane as things seem to be, inconspicuous things start to seep from the crack.

The pattern of her breathing, the doldrums of her dreams, and the path of her thoughts… she could not pinpoint the reason but slowly, subtly, they start to slip out of her control. At times, it will slightly jolt her to awareness like a pinprick on the skin but immediately vanishes like a candle blown out by the wind.

She starts to feel uncomfortable in her own skin; like it's a size too small or a size too big.

She doesn't like it one bit.

_Drip. Drop._

"_Look… the rain is falling."_

"_I can see that."_

"_Why are you grumpy? I'm just telling."_

"_Sure."_

"_Why don't you just sew your mouth shut? You don't use it anyway."_

"_How very creative of you… and morbid, by the way"_

"_Whom do you think I learned it from?"_

"_I see. In that case, want me to exercise what you apparently learned from me?"_

"_No. I think… no need."_

"_Hn. Thought so."_

"_Well… it's still raining."_

Sakura doesn't like noise, any form of it.

"Happy Birthday Sakura!"

The pink haired girl smiles.

A huge table covered with a white trimmed red cloth sits on the middle of the room. A large group of children surrounding it cheer, jumping up and down excitedly to greet and sing for the celebrant. He's not among them. Thirteen candles burn and reflect on their wide eager eyes as they gaze at the small pink frosted cake, a rare occurrence for a poor family of strangers such as their selves.

"Make a wish! Make a wish!" They all cheer.

"Ok."

The little girl closes her eyes and bents over the cake. The boisterous children thrive to refrain from making noises, animatedly zipping their mouth shut to give the celebrant time to make her wish. After an unbearable minute of silence, another smile paints itself on the little girl's lips as she opens her eyes and nods. The noise ensues.

"Okay now, settle down children. Sakura will cut the cake."

The old lady retrieved a long bread knife before carefully handing it to the little girl to cut the cake. The handle feels rough in Sakura's hand but the knife is lithe and sharp.

"Be careful, dear." The old lady pats her head.

"Of course"

Sakura glides the fingers of her other hand on the blade's surface. It is smooth. She discretely presses the knife's edge on her thumb with unnecessary pressure and a trickle of blood flows out.

"Oh my! Are you all right, Sakura?" the old lady takes the knife away.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Come with me, let's t treat your hand."

The group of children takes a step back to allow their pass. They stare curiously and worriedly after the little girl after she apologized. They are all silent.

The noise is not a problem for Sakura anymore.

…

"Do you feel well?"

"Yes. I'm fine. I will just stay in my room."

"Okay. Rest for now, you must just be exhausted. Happy Birthday again, Sakura," the old woman pats her pink head again and warmly smiles. When she hears no response, she stands from the sitting girl's bed and pads silently out the dark room.

"I'm fine now." She utters to no one.

She listlessly stares to space. Long lashes touch her pale cheeks as she difficultly blinks her eyes like struggling to lift lashes weighed with water. There are no thoughts floating inside her head. It is a calm sea of water enclosed in its space.

Everything is silent.

"I saw what you did there."

A frown creases on her forehead.

The disturbance didn't cause any pain but there's a buzzing vibration inside her head, like a ripple in the stagnant waters. Suddenly, it all comes crashing back. The muted sound turns on and the paused scene plays forward. Her senses intensify and the sea comes crashing on the shore. Everything is crystal clear and defined.

Her gaze slowly focuses as she saw the light from the hallway come spilling inside her dark room. The door is slightly ajar. There, he stands.

_Sasuke_.

"I saw what you did there."

She breathes in. She breathes out.

"I heard you the first time. I'm not deaf."

He smirks. "You did it purposely, didn't you?"

She doesn't answer him.

"Why?" She asks. Her confused orbs settle on Sasuke.

His take the same emotions and he lightly brushes the hair on his forehead.

"Why what?"

"You always appear out of nowhere."

Silence.

"Out of nowhere, huh? That's stupid." He comments after pretending to contemplate.

"No, just my observation." Sakura replies in a flat voice.

"You have a creative observation then."

"And you are nosy." She raises her stare to his face and meets his eyes. For some reason, the liquid fire burns brighter in the dark. The anxiety she feels in his presence creeps back.

"Hn. I don't think so, call it plain curiosity. You didn't answer my question." Sasuke persists.

"You were there." Sakura remarks, nothing that she didn't see him in the crowd earlier. She averts her eyes.

"Yes, I wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't there."

"I accidentally cut myself, end of the story. It's not your business." She retorts back, repeating the same words he used to answer her the first time they met in the old abandoned room.

He gives her a are-you-fucking-with-me look as his eyes narrow. She clenches her hands, annoyed. Her brows furrow.

"Stop meddling. It's really none of your business." She turns away and lies down hoping to cut the conversation. She never liked explaining her actions and she has a very short temper. Moreover, she feels uneasy with him. Hear head suddenly starts hurting like there is a sharp object scraping at its walls. She clenches her eyes.

"Tsk. Whatever. I knew what you did after all."

Finally.

Sakura hears him shift and turn, the sound of his feet deafening in the silent room.

"Close the door." She silently orders, masking the pain in her voice.

"Have a sweet dream, Sakura. And by the way, Happy Birthday."

Her eyes widen. He chuckles.

He's gone.

The door is wide open.

There is that one girl named Ino.

She reminds Sakura of the little boy with a head full of golden straws she used to play with. They have more things in common than the color of their hair. They are both loud and full of boisterous energy. The atmosphere around her seems to bubble with colors and warmth. She is very talented in flower arrangement; she has a good eye for colors. She even complimented Sakura for the vibrant color of her air. Everyone enjoys being in her presence. Perhaps, except Sakura.

She dislikes the girl almost as she dislikes pests.

..

..

"What did you just say?" Sakura incredulously asks, disbelief coating her voice.

"I asked you if you could sing." He patiently repeats his previous question, like talking to a clueless toddler.

Sakura ceases writing on the sheet of paper and cautiously scrutinizes Sasuke sitting beside her. Although he's not looking directly to her, Sasuke is not smirking and there's no hint of teasing in his voice. She cannot figure why he would ask such a silly question.

"Is there any reason why you would ask that?"

"Plain curiosity."

"You're playing that card again." She sighs. Conversations seem to have no direction with him. He blurts random things that make the girl frustrated. Not answering is not a choice. He will just find a way to further extinguish her patience.

"…No. I couldn't."

"I see." He rests his chin on his palm and closes his eyes.

The noise around them drawls on but Sakura notices the eyes trying to discreetly look at them. They are intrigued. Why wouldn't they be? the mysterious black-haired boy is talking to her. Sasuke somehow became her acquaintance. He would just appear and their banters are no longer limited in private and the dark. Sakura doesn't know how to feel about that.

"Hey Sakura!" the blonde-haired girl abruptly sits on her other side.

"Ino."

"How are you Sakura? We don't see you often anymore."

"I'm fine."

Ino smiles not noticing the pink-haired girl's cold reception. She scoots closer to Sakura and she tenses up as the girl invades her personal space.

"Hey, you're friends with him. Can you introduce me to Sasuke-kun? Pleasseee!" She whispers to Sakura, excitement filling her voice.

At that moment, she suddenly had the violent urge to strangle her. Given, she doesn't like a lot of things but she has never thought of inflicting pain. She calms herself, but before she could say anything,

"Not interested." a deep voice interrupted.

Sakura's head snaps to Sasuke's direction and Ino draws back like someone slapped.

"Oh, ah… I-I'm sorry." The blond-haired girl shyly bows before hurriedly standing and walking away. Sakura passively stares at the retreating girl's back.

"You don't have to be that rude." She comments.

The black-haired boy assumes his previous position and smirks.

"It's not as rude as the one you had in your mind, I'm sure."

She looks at him, surprised. There's no way he knew that.

"I have an advice." He starts.

"What is it?" she asks warily.

"Stop pretending to care."

She snorts and resumes writing.

For the first time, they agree on the same thing.

..

..


End file.
